


cut segment from What Are You Fighting For

by Delaford



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabbles, things that got cut from other things but I liked and didn't want to throw away forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:11:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delaford/pseuds/Delaford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was just a teeny bit from when Cas was remembering what it was like searching for Dean in Hell.  It didn't really flow with the rest of the story so I cut it, but I was sad to have to do that, so I decided to post it anyway, just separately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cut segment from What Are You Fighting For

He’s never felt such a connection to another human being in all his millennia on Earth; never felt such a bond, like a physical cable, weighing heavily between them no matter the distance.  Like a life-preserver, it has kept him afloat in the isolated waters of uncertainty, the drowning tides of celestial civil war.  But it’s more than that.  Somehow, part of Castiel knows that if it were anyone but Dean holding the other end of that rope he wouldn’t feel so safe. Because he pulled him out of hell? Singed his wings in the process? Feels like they’ve been through so much and perhaps that in itself is what endears him to Dean specifically?    
  
The handprint. 

Sometimes Castiel thought it had to do with the small, immeasurable portion of his soul that separated and embedded itself in Dean’s remade body when Castiel pulled him from the pits of Hell.  But then he remembers the first time he felt Dean‘s presence; before ever seeing him, that biblical day, and knew it wasn’t the physical connection of their souls.    
  
Castiel had been nervous that day.  Not just because this was a task unlike any other, the responsibility of pulling his brother Michael’s vessel from the fires of damnation, or because no other angel had ever before attempted a perditious search and seizure, but for something much more mundane.  It was laughable, really, the real reason Castiel had been nervous that day.  An almost human reason:  What if he couldn’t find his way?    
  
Yet the moment Castiel had breached the realm of Hell his fears were laid to rest.  Instantly he felt a firm tug in the general area of where his belly would be, a tug that spoke of purpose, of certainty.  He wouldn’t have been able to explain it then, what it was or what it meant, but with every passing day Castiel thinks he understands a little more.    
  
Dean.    
  
Was this irony?  Fate; the very thing they had given their lives to fight, was the very thing that saved both Dean and Castiel that day in Hell.    
  
But was it fate?  Or was it something a little more … personal? 


End file.
